


Salmon Thursdays

by Heavenly_Bodies



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, M/M, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-18
Updated: 2011-11-18
Packaged: 2017-10-26 06:05:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/279566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heavenly_Bodies/pseuds/Heavenly_Bodies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Arthur chose the employee Christmas gifts, he had no idea he’d be standing in front of Pike Place Fish six months later ordering fish he didn’t even like.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Salmon Thursdays

**Author's Note:**

> \- Written for [Merlin_Muses](http://merlin-muses.livejournal.com/) Rd 2  
> Prompt 48 _One of them works at[Pike Place Fish](http://www.pikeplacefish.com/) in Seattle. The other is a (little bit too) regular customer. Romance ensues._ by accioscar  
>  \- ‘k the prompter called for an American!AU, and while I wanted to keep the boys with a nice solid British heritage, it didn’t make sense to have everyone magically be from that side of the world, so while the boys themselves are from the UK most of the other show characters are American.  
> \- Most of the locations referenced here are real (and I cannot express the true epic awesomeness of [Golden Age Collectibles](http://www.goldenagecollectables.com/) enough), no disrespect meant to any of them.  
> I’m terribly sorry I couldn’t work in Lowell’s, but the fact is that, well, my dining experience is closer to the ‘cane than Lowell’s, lol.  
> \- thanks to thecheekydragon for the beta, any remaining errors fall on my head alone

*********Prologue*********

 

“Hey, Merlin, your boyfriend’s back.”

Merlin cast a glare at Will as he expertly wrapped a large package of cod fillets, looking back to the crowd and tossing the bundle to a smiling couple a few paces away. He didn’t have to search the crowd for the increasingly familiar blond head to know whom Will was referring to. Every Thursday he came by, just after three, always making the same request- two Alaskan salmon steaks. At first no one paid him much mind, just another face in a sea of tourists and semi-regulars, but then there was “the incident”. Merlin had cut his hand preparing a large rainbow trout and had to retreat away from the front counters to bandage himself and make sure it wasn’t deep enough to require stitches. Will had stepped up to cover for him and of course it was just Merlin’s luck that the blond chose that moment to show up and that Will would try to take his order.

Will had a temper; he joked that it was part of his Indian blood, which Merlin often countered by asking why he wasn’t so quick-tempered himself. Will would laugh and tell him it was because he was a half-breed and that the milder English blood tampered the Indian fire, an excuse that always resulted in a roll of Merlin’s eyes and a laugh. That day Will was being more fiery than usual and the blond was being a git, not that it was a special occurrence for the man, but Merlin was used to him and his moods and, while he might not like it, he knew how to deal with him.

That day _would_ live in infamy for Merlin, if only because Will wasn’t likely to let him for get it, _ever_. Merlin was still somewhat surprised it hadn’t come to blows; it was only his intervention that diffused the situation. To this day he still didn’t know exactly what had happened only that the man was “an overbearing spoiled jackass” and that Will was “a slovenly Neanderthal.” Ever since then, to everyone at the shop, the blond was ‘his boyfriend’- a jealous and demanding boyfriend at that and Merlin wasn’t even getting the perks.

“Salmon?” Merlin asked once the man was in earshot and, as always, he found himself flashing a smile for the near stranger and quietly thinking that he wouldn’t mind getting some of those perks.

“Yes, please,” the blond answered, the light English lilt to his voice making Merlin ever-so-slightly homesick, even though the man was clearly from London and about as far removed from the small village he was from as Norwegian king crab from a Maryland blue. Merlin knew his own accent was touch and go, he’d been over here for almost five years and it was easy to fall into the local dialect. At times he thought their dialect in this part of the US was closer to one from his own homeland than the rest of their country, of course, there was a lot more of the US than there was of the UK, so he supposed the idea wasn’t as odd as it sounded.

Merlin nodded once and moved down the line to where the salmon steaks where lain out. As always he picked the two nicest ones for the blond, these two he’d spied early that morning right after they came in and had deliberately packed them down beneath the others for when the man came. Bundling the steaks up, Merlin wondered what was wrong- the blond was never this nice or subdued; the change unnerved him. Finishing his task he called over to the blond, hitching his head for him to come to the counter.

Arthur tried not to jump out of his skin; he was trying not to be the horse’s ass he normally was, but he wasn’t expecting the look of concern on Merlin’s face.

“Everything alright, mate?” he found himself asking.

“Yeah, just long week, I guess.”

Merlin smiled. “Almost over though.” God, he sounded like an idiot.

Arthur snorted. “For some maybe.” He paid for the fish with an honest, “Thanks.”

“Hey, do you have a name?” Merlin felt like a deer in the headlights, he couldn’t believe he’d just asked the blond his name, and like _that_ \- now he knew he not only sounded like an idiot, he was one.

To his relief the man chuckled. “Yeah. Arthur. Thanks again.”

Merlin knew his smile was dopey, but the blond now had a name. Arthur.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 _One Month Earlier…_

 

Arthur let his cursor hover over the “Meet the Guys” profile pages of the Pike Place Fish web site. He had been to the site before, but under very different circumstances. Uther Pendragon had a reputation for always having his eyes and hands on every bit of his company from new accounts to the interior design of the twelfth floor offices, the approval of pay raises and assignment of bonuses, but last year he had given over the reins of choosing the company-wide Christmas bonuses to Arthur. And that little experiment is what lead him here. He’d reviewed and read and researched, until he finally settled on the famous Pike Place fishmongers. He wasn’t what you would call a fish person, his pallet had always run more towards Angus beef and the more red end of the spectrum, but he could appreciate good seafood and Pike Place Fish held the appeal of its local base and singular personality as well as being one of the best fishmongers in the world.

It had been almost six months later that Arthur had found himself standing in front of that same stall sitting like a keystone at the centre of the Pike Place Market ordering a set of salmon steaks and completely taken aback by the pale brunet with a hidden English accent and sharp tongue that waited on him. He’d actually enjoyed listening to the banter between the young man and one of the other workers, it was familiar and friendly even in its sting, which was why he couldn’t understand why he’d reacted the way he had. His father had taught him to be firm and succinct in any situation; it was a lesson hard taught and one that Arthur secretly hated that it had become second nature to him, especially when he was flustered. Morgana was constantly reprimanding him for it, claiming it was no wonder he was single when he intimidated or offended everyone he was attracted to within five minutes of opening his mouth.

It wasn’t his fault. The brunet had smiled at him, this huge bright thing that covered his whole face. The smile had asked what he could get for him and Arthur was lost. He’d snapped his request- two large three inch salmon steaks- with extra bite in the same way his father would berate some imbecile who had spilt wine on his sleeve. The young man hadn’t batted an eye. He’d just kept on smiling, asking if he wanted ‘sockeye’ or something else his brain couldn’t process as it was being too distracted by the man’s smile. He must have answered because soon after the man had wrapped up the fish and finished their exchange with a warm ‘There you go, have a good day.’ The worst part of all was that he’d actually sounded like he meant it.

Three weeks later and Arthur had been having a horrible day, a horrible week. His father had been on him non-stop about two accounts that were being negotiated, one a fairly simple contract renewal, both parties knew they worked best together and it wasn’t much more than minor bit of sabre rattling for the look of the thing. The other was a new account, one that Arthur had been swept up into at the last moment when one of his father’s oldest VPs had been taken ill.

Arthur was sitting in his office on the fifty-third floor of the distinctive black B of A Columbia Center, the headache he’d had for the past week beginning to throb in earnest. He leaned back in his soft leather chair letting his neck rest against the bulge of padding, and closed his eyes, smiling. As had happened increasingly often, the bright smile of the man he’d lashed out at a month before filled his vision the moment his eyes slid shut. In truth Arthur thought that sight was the only thing that had kept him from exploding or possibly imploding; though he didn’t exactly understand the physics of it, he always imagined it cartoon style with him leaving nothing but a pinpoint of where his body was. He often wondered if his father would spend half the time and energy (and money) looking for him as he had in tracking down his half-sister when she ran away from home- or as his father would put it ‘was kidnapped by that gang of miscreants and hooligans’. Arthur huffed a half-hearted laugh. It wasn’t that he didn’t love his sister, it was just that Morgana had a wild side that he envied; he was being groomed for the corporate world, to take over the company and ‘be responsible for thousands’, a fact his father would _never_ let him forget.

That smile. That tiny, annoying respite was what led him here with his cursor hovering over the link that could, possibly, bring that smile to his screen. With a depreciating sigh, Arthur closed the window and looked back at the pile of contracts that had been plaguing him. Closing his laptop, ignoring the mound of papers, he pulled his coat from where it hung on the door and, in an act of quiet defiance, walked out of the office in the middle of the afternoon.

Arthur walked the streets aimlessly, paying little attention to his surroundings. He paused briefly in front of the glass monstrosity that was Seattle Public Library. Despite its odd nouvaeu architecture it managed to exude a subtle calm, but soon he moved on past the grey office buildings and brighter shops, down to the large kinetic sculpture that was the icon of SAM, and back towards Westlake Center. He wasn’t exactly surprised when he found himself in front of the Pike Place Market; it was hard not to with the course he was travelling, but it didn’t stop the jolt he felt at catching a glimpse of that smile.

\---

Merlin almost dropped the fish he was wrapping, but he recovered quickly; it wouldn’t do to draw attention to himself- he wasn’t so much concerned about the crowd as he was about Will. Will would never let him live down getting distracted over someone like that. Merlin wasn’t sure why the arrogant blond had stuck in his head, but he had; in the sea of people who swarmed Pike Place Market this time of year anyone who wasn’t already a regular seldom made any kind of an impression. When the blond seemed to move into the haphazard configuration that passed for a line Merlin’s heart sped up; he took orders on auto-pilot as he tried to understand his visceral reaction as the object of his predicament moved closer.

\---

Arthur didn’t know what he was thinking or if he was thinking. All he knew was that he’d seen that smile and his course of action seemed inescapable. He wiped his damp palms on his slacks as he approach the head of the line, no clue what he was going to say once he got there.

“Hey, what can I get you?”

Apparently, “Salmon,” was what he was going to say. He mentally cursed himself.

“Two three inch steaks, same as last time?” Merlin found himself asking, simultaneously wishing he could bash his head against the wall. Why his brain thought it was a good idea to let the blond know he remembered him was beyond his feeble understanding.

All hope Arthur had of the man not remembering him and the way he’d treated him fled and he was torn between elation that he was remembered and horror at _why_ he was remembered. He wanted to apologize, to tell the fishmonger he hadn’t meant to treat him like he had, but thanks to his lifetime of training at his father’s hand he glared instead, saying, “I’m amazed you managed to remember.”

Merlin stared for a moment wondering why he was cursed to be so attracted to such an ass, before coming to his senses and smiling a sarcastic smile, “Yes, some of us can even speak and have rudimentary mastery of our letters and numbers.” Merlin moved away and selected two especially nice steaks for the pompous prat, mentally cursing himself all the while. He returned moments later with the wrapped steaks and an unfortunately truthful smile.

\------

Storming back into his office, the package of salmon tucked under his arm, Arthur sat in his chair and let his head fall heavily onto his desk. He couldn’t believe he’d done it again. He rolled his head to the left and saw the stack of files he’d left; somehow it seemed to have grown while he was gone. Huffing, he rolled his once again throbbing head to the right and stared at the salmon. He didn’t even like salmon.

A few minutes later there was a soft knock on the door before it opened and Gwen, his executive assistant and all around life saver, walked in with a mug of hot coffee and a bottle of ibuprofen. She sat the mug and pain killers on the desk and leaned up against it. “You looked like you needed this.”

Arthur closed his eyes and didn’t move. “Thank you. Do I ever tell you you’re an angel?”

“Not often enough, but I know you think it, so it’s okay.”

That got a small snort of laughter from him. Gwen did a lot of things for him around the office, keeping him on track and all but running the office when he was overrun with paperwork or whatever hoops his father was putting him through, but the most important thing she did was treat him like a normal person. He raised his head and slowly opened his eyes. “Do you think you could order some Chinese for me before you go?”

She looked at Arthur curiously for a moment.

Arthur followed her eyes and saw they were trained on the package on his desk. “Ah, that. Don’t ask.” He shook his head and rolled his eyes, “I made a mistake.”

“Alright,” she answered not sounding convinced. “Your usual order?”

“Please.” He stared at the salmon, wondering why it seemed a more daunting adversary than the account he was preparing to negotiate. “Gwen?”

“Yes, Arthur?”

“Do you and Lance like salmon?”

\------

“I can’t believe you.” Will rolled his eyes and shook his head from their small kitchen. “You’re still hung up on him.”

“Shut up, Will; it’s not like that.”

Snorting, “Yeah, then what _is_ it like? ‘cause from here it looks like you’re stuck on a guy you’ve seen, what, twice? A guy whose only quality is to be a jackass to you?”

Merlin shrugged. Will was right and he knew it, but there was something about the blond that wouldn’t leave him. “I don’t know, Will, I can’t put my finger on it… but he is hot, even you have to admit that.”

Will inclined his head conceding the point.

“And have you noticed when he smiles?” Merlin got a vaguely dreamy look in his eyes. “I’ve only really caught it in the reflection, but it makes you want to smile with him. It’s amazing.”

“He’s a pompous ass.”

Merlin puffed out a small laugh; some things he couldn’t argue with.

“At least find out his name if you’re going to be crushing on him, otherwise I’ll be stuck calling him Prince Charming and I don’t think either of you would want that.” Will smirked and plopped down next to Merlin with a sly grin.

\------

Arthur looked out over the city. He’d made the trek up to the 73rd floor to get away from his office and keep his feet from taking him straight to the Market. He pulled his suit jacket tighter around him the wind up here was incredible; at this height it was almost like flying. He chuckled, thinking about the stories he’d heard about the Blue Angels running their practice drills over the Sound and buzzing the waterfront buildings; the image somehow reinforcing his analogy.

Up here he could think, clear his head. And the view was unbelievable, on a clear day you could see clear to the peninsula. But on those days where the clouds hung low and the grey seemed to be a living thing, those days the water looked to go on forever and softly roll all around you. Those days were Arthur’s favourite. It was peaceful- the kind of peace that came from knowing no matter how rough the waters, you knew your path and how to travel it, and that’s what Arthur needed right now, more than he had in ages.

For five weeks now he’d gone to the Market and every time he’d snapped or fussed or just been an ass to Merlin- he’d given in and looked him up on the shop’s website after the third disastrous encounter- and he tries not to think about the time when Merlin wasn’t on the counter and he flipped out almost starting a fight with his friend. That was fun, after that he was sure not one single person in the shop didn’t know him, and he told himself it was his imagination that they all got out of his way, everyone except Merlin. He hung his head. What the fuck was he doing? He was Arthur Pendragon; at twenty-seven he was an executive VP of a Fortune 500 company, the only son of Uther Pendragon and heir to “the Pendragon legacy”- he could hear his father’s voice rumble in his head as he thought those words. Arthur Pendragon didn’t get flustered by fishmongers, no matter how beautiful or sharp-tongued they were. Gwen was even beginning to give him weird looks on the days he visited the shop, and it really didn’t help that he was keeping her and her fiancé stocked in grade A Alaskan salmon; it just made her worry more. He had to do something. He took one last longing look at the calming view and headed back to his office.

With a quick stop by his office to tell Gwen he would be out the rest of the day and for her go home early he headed out with every intention of going to Pike Place Fish.

When he got there, he didn’t know what to do with himself. He’d looked around trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, but after his little altercation that was only a pipe dream. But Merlin was nowhere to be seen. Swallowing hard, he tried to decide what to do.

“Excuse me? You’re looking for Merlin, right?” A young woman about their age asked.

Arthur blinked. “Uh, yes. How’d you…?”

The woman just smiled. “He’s downstairs, try Golden Age, I see him there a lot.”

“Thank you,” Arthur called to her retreating back.

Before he could reconsider, he was headed down the first flight of stairs. It took a few false starts and eventually asking for directions, but he finally found his way down to the 4th floor collectibles shop.

The place was a throng with people. If Merlin was here he had no clue how to find him. He was about to give up when he saw him, or thought he did- there was something unmistakable about that mop of dark hair and those ears. Arthur’s mind suddenly went blank as it often did around the other man. He blinked and shook himself- this was ridiculous- but by the time he’d gathered his wits Merlin was gone.

\---

Merlin had the weirdest sense someone was watching him- an absurd idea given the crowd, but the feeling was there all the same. He tried to ignore it, flipping absently through the box of comics in front of him.

A hand rested on his back, “Come on back, I just need to let the task master know I’m going.”

Smiling, Merlin teased, “Oh, and he’s such a hard task master, Gwaine.”

“You have no idea what it’s like with all these geeks and Trekkies and fan-people,” he argued, guiding his friend towards the ‘Employees Only’ door. Once safely through the door, Gwaine’s jovial demeanour turned serious. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” Merlin’s brow furrowed, “why wouldn’t I be?”

“Didn’t you see that guy watching you?”

Merlin shivered; someone _had_ been watching him. “Maybe he was just looking in my direction- there _was_ a large cardboard Princess Leia behind me.”

Gwaine crossed his arms and shook his head emphatically. “No. This guy was searching the crowd, stopped, and _looked_ when he saw you. You could tell he was looking for you. I didn’t like it. The suit and tie didn’t help, either.”

Merlin had a sinking feeling, incongruently accompanied by butterflies and little flip-flops in his stomach. “Blond, about so high,” he raised his hand to about his own height,” gorgeous blue eyes, and lopsided smile.”

“Well, I didn’t know about the eyes or smile, he looked more intent than anything. You know him?”

“Kind of.” A faint blush crept up Merlin’s face. “You know that guy who comes to the shop?”

“THAT was Prince Charming?!? Shit, Merlin, I’m sorry. If I’d known…”

Merlin shrugged. “What would you have done?” He puffed out a laugh. “What would _I_ have done?”

Gwaine leaned lazily against the break room wall, “A wild guess here, talk to him? About something other than fish?”

Merlin’s forehead thudded against the thick wall and he muttered, “Yeah, right.”

\---

Arthur slowly made his way through the lower level, following it out to Western and dragging himself toward the ferry terminal, his downtown flat holding no appeal to him in the slightest. He boarded the Bainbridge ferry in a daze, moving to the open end of the boat.

Their house on Bainbridge Island was seldom used, he with his small flat in Capital Hill , and his father preferring to stay in a hotel close to the company offices when he deigned to visit. Its only real use was when Arthur wanted to get away or when they needed it for corporate get-togethers, but at a time like this it was exactly what he needed. He let the wind whip around him, damper than on the Observation Deck with the sting of sea spray battering his face. It was refreshing and drove the troubles plaguing him to the back of his mind. It was still early, the main rush of people hurrying home from jobs across the Sound had yet to hit the small ferry terminal, but Arthur found a cab quickly enough to take him the rest of the way.

Later, when he was curled up in front of the fireplace, a mug that was as much brandy as coffee in his hands, he finally let himself think.

\------

Merlin was finally home. Gwaine had grilled him and teased him and on occasion actually tried to help, but the truth was Prince Prat, Merlin’s own name for the blond, was not a person who was going to get out of his thoughts easily; mainly because Merlin didn’t want him to. Merlin _liked_ the blond, really liked him, a feeling that only intensified every time he saw him. He was doomed, and he knew it.

At least Gwaine was trying to be supportive, even with his jibes, unlike Will, who might be his best friend, but was a complete arse when it came to the blond and Merlin’s attraction to him.

Merlin flopped down on his bed, legs dangling off the side, one arm thrown out, the other bent so his forearm rested over his eyes. The light from the hall flickered and went dark, and a voice drifted in from the doorway.

“Wanna talk about it?”

“No.”

There was movement and the light was back, no longer blocked by his friend’s body. The bed dipped and he felt Will settle against the head board. “Prince Charming?”

“I really don’t want to hear it tonight, Will, please?”

“Okay, I won’t go there, but I really can’t stand to see you doing this to yourself over someone like him.”

“Will,” Merlin was in no mood for another of Will’s lectures about the evils of the upper class and how they were just as bad as ‘the white man’ when it came to exploiting people.

“No. And I don’t mean it like that this time. I mean what this is doing to you. I don’t like it. You’re miserable whenever he’s been around.”

Merlin sighed. “I’m not miserable, and it’s not his fault. I’m the one crushing on a complete stranger.” He lifted the arm from his eyes. “How’d you know I saw him today?”

“Freya,” he answered easily. “She said she saw him looking for you and sent him off towards Golden Age.”

“Hmm, I wondered how he wound up down there. And for what it’s worth _I_ didn’t see him… Gwaine did.” He laughed. “You’ll love this. Gwaine thought he was stalking me and rushed me off to the break room.”

Will’s eyebrows shot up, “I knew there was a reason I liked him.”

“Will, you don’t like anybody.”

“I do. I like you. And Freya.”

Merlin arched an eyebrow.

“So, I’m picky.”

Shaking his head, Merlin chuckled. “What am I gonna do, Will?”

“Well, I’m guessing forgetting about him isn’t an option at this point, is it?”

Merlin just looked at him.

“That’s what I thought.” He gently kicked Merlin’s shoulder with his foot. “The way I see it, if you’re going to insist on crushing on the ass, you either try to talk to him next time, or take a page from Gwaine’s playbook and drown yourself in whiskey.”

“Oh, such marvelous choices,” Merlin groaned and threw his arm back over his eyes, trying to block out the world and his own thoughts, but most of all, trying to rid himself of those sea blue eyes and crooked smile.

\------

Arthur woke up curled in the great reading chair in the house in Bainbridge, his mouth tasting of stale liquor, and head fuzzy with the tell-tale signs of a mild hangover. Groaning, he clawed himself out of the comfortable chair and towards the bathroom and the promise of a shower. The cold water helped to clear the cobwebs from his mind and let the thoughts that had led him there float to the surface.

Merlin. Always Merlin, for months now. Arthur sighed and let his head thud against the shower wall. He’d never felt so ill-footed with anyone before, but Merlin did that, had since the day they met. Merlin with his playful smile, and dark meaningful eyes, long skillful fingers and pale skin, and perfect lips. Arthur gasped as his mind wandered into strange territory. He knew he was attracted to Merlin, that was what all this frustration was about, but he’d never _fantasized_ about him, yet there it was bight and fresh in his mind. Merlin, his Merlin, on his knees staring up at him, his hands griping his hips almost painfully, holding him in place as his cock bobbed in front of those pink lips. He slowly wrapped his hand around his rapidly filling cock, the water from the shower cascading down his body relaxing him further into his fantasy. Merlin’s tongue flicked out to taste the tip, barely there, but enough to send a shiver through Arthur’s body. Merlin moaned and licked his lips, pulling Arthur’s hips forward to suckle at his flesh; Arthur cried almost painfully as his fist tightened around his shaft, squeezing at the head. Merlin batted his eyes all innocence and trust as his wicked, wicked mouth slid down his shaft in one smooth movement, his pink lips stretched and red with use; the contradiction doing strange and wonderful things to his insides. Arthur’s hand moved quick and rough over his flesh, his orgasm approaching like a train wreck, hard, fast and unstoppable. In his mind, Merlin’s hands tensed on his hips, squeezing possessively, as he swallowed around Arthur’s cock- throat and tongue and the slight edge of teeth all working against his cock pulling him to completion. Merlin’s smiling eyes hungry and _loving_ were the last thing he saw before the freight train of his orgasm plummeted into ecstasy as Arthur cried out, sinking to his knees, and splattering the shower wall with his come.

His head swam, not with the fuzziness of hangover, but the after image of those loving eyes, and his body shook. He didn’t know how, but somehow, he’d win Merlin over. It was no longer a matter of a simple attraction; it was a matter of need. Next time he saw Merlin he’d be nice if it killed him, and who knows he might even manage some conversation.

\------

He was practically bouncing when he returned to his office, dropping the package of fresh salmon on Gwen’s desk as he passed. The week had been hell, his father had come in for a surprise ‘visit’, and half of his office had the flu including most of the other executives; so far he and Gwen had been spared, but the odds were against them. But. He’d talked to Merlin. Okay, so maybe talked was a bit of a stretch, but Merlin had noticed him for more than his attitude and had even asked his name. Arthur considered this a definite step in the right direction, and he refused to look at how pathetic it was that such a small victory made him this happy; at this rate he might work up the courage to ask Merlin out in a year or two.

Thankfully his father was scheduled to leave the next day, so at least he wouldn’t have to listen to the dinner lectures about his lack of love life- he’d hoped once his father accept that he was not going to be giving him a Pendragon heir and _why_ that he’d lose interest in pressuring Arthur to settle down or even start seeing someone; unfortunately, that knowledge only seemed to make Uther more interested- and the working lunches full of critiques, condescension, and occasional praise. With his father went the heavy weight on his shoulders, so maybe then he could focus on something more important- like Merlin.

He’d planned to ‘run into’ Merlin at the shop he seemed so fond of in the Down Under, maybe strike up a conversation and eventually work up to asking him out. Nice, clean and simple. Of course, that all hinged on him being able to speak without sounding like a complete bastard. At times he truly hated his father’s upbringing, and the ingrained arrogance that he’d instilled. He was fairly certain that trait alone would keep Merlin away.

On Monday, Arthur took a late lunch and headed down to the Market, taking the chance that Merlin’s schedule was a regular one, and that the young woman he’d run into the week before was right about Merlin spending a lot of time at the comic shop. Just as it had been the last time he was there, the shop was swamped. It was as if someone had tried to put the entire population of Pike Place Market into one place. Needless to say the outing was a far cry from successful. Arthur tried again two days later with the same results. He was beginning to question his plan, but at least he knew that one way or the other he’d be able to see Merlin Thursday, even if it was only over a couple slabs of salmon.

\------

In Arthur’s opinion, this Thursday had been a great success, even if it was still a relatively minor one. Yes, he was still blindly ordering salmon, but he’d stopped and talked to Merlin, admittedly about said salmon; still, progress was progress.

“You look pleased with yourself.” Gwen smiled as she took the proffered package and followed Arthur into his office. “Something good happen with your fishmonger?”

“Not really. Though he did give me some suggestions for the salmon.” He sat back in his chair and rested his feet on the corner of his desk.

Gwen let out a good natured laugh. “Arthur, are you ever going to tell him you hate salmon?”

“Of course,” Arthur stated authoritatively, “right after he asks me to make it for dinner.”

“Oh, Arthur,” Gwen shook her head and laughed. “It’s a good thing you’re better at business than dating. If you attacked your business deals this way, not only would _you_ be out of a job, but the company would’ve gone under and your father would’ve disowned you.”

“I’m not that bad,” he answered defensively, straightening up in his chair.

“Whatever you say, Arthur,” she said, not bothering to hide her patronizing tone. “Don’t forget, you have that conference call with your father and Bayard at four,” she reminded him, more seriously. “I sent the updated files to your PDA.”

Arthur smiled his thanks and turned to his computer.

\------

“He’s starting to freak me out,” Merlin admitted dejectedly.

“Who? Prince Charming?”

“Arthur,” he corrected automatically.

“Yes, Will, _Arthur_ , as in the legends,” Gwaine mocked sarcastically.

Will furrowed his brow, “Whatever, Gwaine, some of us live in the real world.”

“Don’t get him started,” Merlin pleaded, but it was too late.

“Arthurian Legend, Will. King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table. _Arthur_ and _Merlin_? How can you keep forgetting the idiot’s name with that comparison rolling around?”

Will, sniggered, “Hmm, I hadn’t thought about that.”

Merlin held his head in his hands, cursing his friends. “Guys? Please?”

The two men slid down on either side of him on the couch, “Sorry, man.”

“Yeah, didn’t mean to make light,” Gwaine said, trying to sound sincere. “What’s the dolt doing that’s freaking you out, other than the stalking? Did I tell you he came by the store again today? It’s becoming a habit, the least you could do is be there when he’s trying to stalk you.”

“No, you didn’t, and no, it’s not the stalking, which I really don’t think he’s doing.”

“You say tomato, I say tomato…” Gwaine cocked his head as if he was debating something. “Shouldn’t that the other way ‘round when I’m talking to you?”

Merlin ignored him.

“He’s being nice,” Will informed Gwaine.

“Wow, that is disturbing.”

“Your sarcasm is not appreciated, Gwaine,” Merlin chided.

He shrugged nonchalantly. “Heathen.”

“Will’s right, though. That is what’s bothering me. He’s never nice, not like this. It’s just not _normal_.”

Will looked around Merlin to tell Gwaine, “See, being nice isn’t normal, I told you there was something wrong with him.”

Gwaine nodded solemnly.

“Would you two be serious,” Merlin sighed deeply, “for just a moment?”

“Sorry, Merlin.”

“Yeah, sorry, it’s just you obviously like the guy and he’s being nice, and stalking you; ever think maybe he’s just really bad at flirting?”

Merlin snorted, “I wish. He’s probably insane or something.”

“Yeah,” Will agreed quickly then thwacked Gwaine over the head, growling, “You’re not supposed to be encouraging him. Prince- _Arthur_ is a prick. We’re supposed to be _dis_ couraging him.”

“Just because you have a problem with royalty, doesn’t mean Merlin doesn’t deserve it.”

Groaning, Merlin got up. “You two are hopeless, I’m going to bed.”

\------

After two more completely fruitless outings, Arthur finally caught Merlin in the Down Under at Golden Age Collectibles. He took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and marched over to where Merlin was standing by a bookshelf. “Hey,” he said, cringing at how pathetic the word sounded.

Merlin turned from the shelf he was perusing, hoping he was covering his shock. After weeks of all but stalking him, Arthur was actually talking to him- _FINALLY_. He smiled, “Finally giving up stalking?”

“I…” Arthur started, before his natural indignance kicked in and he replied, “I wasn’t stalking.”

“If all this has been some perverse form of courtship, it’s no wonder you’re single,” Merlin quipped, sliding the book he had been looking at back into place.

Arthur chuckled, “I never said I was single.”

Merlin quirked an eye at him. “In that case you’re even worse at this than I thought.” Merlin pushed by him, back towards the entrance.

“For what it’s worth, I’m not,” Arthur called after him. He could hear the arrogance in his voice and immediately regretted his words.

Merlin stopped and turned, feeling even more confused than Arthur normally left him.

“Seeing someone, I mean,” Arthur added quickly before Merlin got the wrong impression completely.

“Oh. Good.” He continued on into the large subterranean hall. “It would be a bit awkward when I said yes then.”

Arthur did a double take before catching up with himself and answering coolly, “I never said I was going to ask.”

“No, you never said a lot of things, but you’ve been coming to the shop religiously for weeks now, anyone but me gets close to you and you growl-”

“I do not!”

Merlin rolled his eyes at him. “You _growl_ , it’s kinda cute actually.” He hurried on before his blushing companion could protest. “Where was I? Oh, yes, you growl,” by this time Merlin was smirking and could barely stop the laughter.

“Merlin, shut up,” Arthur complained around his own quiet laughter.

They watched each other for a few moments, each taken by the open sparkle in the other’s eyes and free smile on their lips.

“So, will you?” Arthur finally asked.

“Hmm,” Merlin cupped his elbow in his hand and tapped a finger thoughtfully against his lips. “I don’t know.” There was playful hesitation in his words. “You might be seeing someone.”

“Well, I would be if you’d just say yes,” Arthur griped.

“Well, when you put it _that_ way, I guess I don’t have a choice. Wouldn’t want to make a liar out of you.”

“Oh, thank you for such resounding confidence.”

“I said yes, didn’t I?”

Arthur considered this. “True, but it may have been under duress.”

“God, you really are a prat.”

Arthur beamed, “Perhaps, but you still agreed to a date.”

Merlin just shook his head fondly.

“You free tonight?”

Frowning, “Unfortunately, no.” He was going to see his father for dinner, a ritual he cherished and didn’t want to break, even for Arthur. “Tomorrow?” he asked hopefully.

“Tomorrow’s good. I’ll stop by and let you know when and where?”

Nodding, Merlin felt almost giddy, Arthur had asked him out. Then a sobering thought hit him- Will was going to give him hell... for the rest of his natural life, maybe even after.

\------

“Father,” Merlin greeted the tall dark man smiling at him from his desk.

“Merlin.” He stood, crossing the distance in three long strides to envelop his son in a hug. “Good to see you, boy. How’s Will?”

“Fine, Father, as always.”

“He still giving you trouble about that young man?”

“Father, please.” He had known his father would ask about Arthur; Will had seen to that weeks ago.

“What? Am I not allowed to worry about my son’s emotional state?”

Merlin shook his head. “Are you sure you’re not Will’s father, too?”

Balinor barked out a laugh. “Absolutely sure, son. But someone had to look after him after his father died.”

Sighing, “He asked me out,” he admitted.

“About time. I was beginning to think Will was right to be so mistrustful.”

“Father!”

Balinor raised a hand stalling Merlin’s protests. “Calm down. I was only worried for you. I didn’t like the idea that some pompous ass was toying with my only son.” He smiled his warm comforting smile, the one that reminded Merlin of home and family and made him understand why his mother still loved him.

“He’s not toying with me, Father. He’s nice. Just a bit…”

“Arrogant? Pretentious? Supercilious?”

Rolling his eyes, Merlin ignored Balinor in favour of poking around his kitchen to see what he could make for dinner. “Have you even gone shopping since the last time I was here? You’d think you lived in a cave.”

He shook his head, laughing. “You’re the only one who would notice. Anything in there edible by your standards?”

“My standards aren’t that high, Father. It’s just that I prefer my food not to have intricate social structures living on them.”

“Shopping?”

“I brought food. I figured you wouldn’t have had time; I know you’ve been busy.” Merlin smiled.

“Haha, what are we having then?”

“Cod, there’s a new recipe I want to try with basil and tomato.”

“Sounds good. You talk, I’ll chop. I want to know everything about this young ‘prince’ of yours.”

Merlin let his head thump against the cabinet; he was going to kill Will.

\------

Arthur looked around, the stall was relatively quiet, and Merlin was nowhere to be seen. It was earlier than he normally came by, but he had meetings all afternoon and he needed to let Merlin know where to meet him. The only person he saw that he knew was Merlin’s friend, the one he’d fought with, and he cringed. “Will?” Arthur took a chance the man would speak to him for Merlin’s sake. “Is Merlin around?”

“Why?”

Relief filled him at the one terse word. “I was supposed to tell him where to meet me tonight.”

Will rolled his eyes; he still couldn’t believe his friend had agreed to go out with the blond prick. “He’s not here. He had to pick up a delivery.”

“Oh.” Arthur tried to sound less disappointed than he was. “Well, could you give him a message for me?”

Will slammed down the crate he’d been moving, “Sure, why not. It’s not like I have work to do or anything.”

Arthur ignored him. “Thank you. Tell him I’ll meet him at the café at Elliot Bay Books when he gets off,” he said, smiling what to anyone except Will and Merlin would’ve been a winning smile, to the two Snohomish men, however, it seemed only to annoy and amuse.

“Elliot Bay? Seriously?”

“Yeah, why?” For a moment Arthur worried that his choice wasn’t as appealing to Merlin as he thought.

Will shook his head, “Nothing. It’s fine, very appropriate.”

Arthur felt like the other man was making fun of him and snapped, “Just give him the message, Will, please.”

“Sure thing, your Highness.”

“Will,” Arthur all but begged, pleading mixed with exasperation in Arthur’s voice.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll tell him.” He waved the blond off as he busied himself with a crate of pickled herring.

Arthur sighed and accepted Will’s words- he didn’t have much choice.

\------

Merlin stared at the brightly lit storefront, he couldn’t believe he was about to go into the place, but he’d missed Arthur when he’d come by, so hadn’t been able to debate where they’d meet. With a deep breath, he charged into the upscale bookstore.

Arthur was idly stroking the side of his coffee, distracting himself with the angles and pattern of the cup, but he might as well have been haloed in light the way he stood out to Merlin. The young man worked his way over to the blond. He hated places like this; they put him off and he could never feel comfortable here.

“Hey, I can’t believe you wanted to meet here,” Merlin blurted out, his nerves getting the better of him, but Arthur didn’t seem to notice.

“Hey, you came.” Arthur smiled up at Merlin.

As soon as he saw Arthur’s smile, he didn’t care about where they were meeting. He sat down across from him and let Arthur order him a coffee.

“Would you mind if we got out of here?” Merlin asked.

“Uh, sure.” Arthur was confused.

“Great.” Merlin smiled, relieved.

As they left Merlin seemed to relax.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. I don’t really like that place, it always makes me feel uncomfortable.”

Arthur’s smile faltered for the first time that night. “Oh, sorry.” They took a few steps in silence before Arthur spoke again. “It’s a bookstore,” he stated as if that explained everything. “I thought it would be… non-threatening.”

Merlin chuckled. “They can be a bit pretentious.” Arthur was quiet for a moment too long for Merlin’s comfort. “Have you ever actually paid attention to how much they charge for some of their books? It’s ridiculous.”

Huffing a laugh, Arthur shook his head; he didn’t know that, he’d never paid it any attention.

Smiling, Merlin let his shoulder bump playfully into Arthur’s as they walked towards the waterfront. The waning sun leaving soft sparkles over the rippling water as it began to set.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” he asked taking the opportunity to change the subject from the disaster of the bookstore- no wonder Will had reacted so oddly when Arthur gave him the message. He tried not to be too angry with the man, afterall, he was only trying to show his friend what an ass he was dating.

“Yeah, reminds me of home,” Merlin said. “Mum and I used to watch the sunset over the sea, and she’d tell me about the Sound and how the waves lapped against the shore like the fast pulse of a lover’s heartbeat, then she’d tell me about my father and how honourable he was; that he loved me even as far away as he was.”

“Where was he?” Arthur asked softly, steering them towards an open bench.

“Hmm, oh, he’s here. He’s a member of the Snohomish tribal council.” Merlin smiled proudly. “He has been for most of my life that’s why he never followed Mum. He asked her to stay, but she couldn’t, her family needed her, my Gran Da’ had cancer, it was bad. She’d planned to come back as soon as she could, then she had me, and there was never the money. And being a tribal leader doesn’t pay what it used to,” he joked, but it was obvious it mattered more than he let on.

“I take it that he’s why you’re here.”

“Yeah, I wanted to get to know him, more than just the occasional letter or phone call.”

“Hmm.”

“What?” Merlin asked genuinely curious.

“Just thinking how strange it is for you to have been without a proper father most of your life, yet you’re so close to him, and my father was technically there and we still barely speak.”

“Hey, I’m sure your dad loves you; he probably just has a hard time showing it.”

Arthur snorted. “Understatement. But you’re right, I know he does.”

“What about your mum?”

Arthur looked out to the oranges and purples shimmering over the water. “She died when I was born.”

“Sorry.” Merlin cringed inside. He felt like a heel asking something so personal; he knew he was a bit of an open book, but as Will kept reminding him not everyone was like that, and especially someone as closed off and defensive as Arthur, he should’ve known better.

“No,” Arthur insisted, “You let me grill you about your father, it’s only fair.”

Merlin chuckled, enjoying the press of arms and thighs together as they sat. “Will keeps telling me I shouldn’t expect people to be as open as I am. He loves to count it as one of my greatest faults.”

“Ha, if that’s your greatest, I’m in real trouble.”

“Nah, right now he thinks you’re my greatest fault.”

“Oh, well, that’s another thing entirely,” Arthur said, smiling brightly as his eyes met Merlin’s. His breath felt heavy, lost in the darkness of his eyes.

Merlin’s own smile quirked up on one side. He swallowed, “You know, if you don’t kiss me, I’m gonna start to think Wi-”

Lips were on his, pressing with a gently insistency; staking their claim, but not demanding more, and Merlin sank into it willing and _wanting_ to open and give more. His tongue was the one that licked softly over Arthur’s, asking. A request Arthur was more than happy to grant. The kiss was languid and smooth as if they had all the time in the world for just this one experience. Their breath was soft and deep when they parted, smiles giddy and free.

Arthur held Merlin’s face in his hands and kissed him again, a milder, more chaste version of before.

“Just to set the record straight, Will was _not_ right about you.” Merlin dove in for another quick kiss. “At all.”

Smirking, Arthur teased, “My kissing prowess that Earthshattering?”

“I am not going to feed your ego by answering that.”

Arthur merely beamed all the wider.

“Shut up before I change my mind, you great prat.”

They talked and kissed for hours, until Merlin began stifling yawns.

“I should let you get home, shouldn’t I?” Arthur asked a little sadly, pulling Merlin closer to him.

Merlin shook his head and let his head lie back on Arthur’s shoulder, “I’m fine.”

Arthur chuckled. “You may be fine, but I’m afraid you’re going to fall asleep on me, and quite honestly if you’re going to do that I’d prefer it was in my bed.”

“Presumptuous, aren’t you?” Merlin teased as he shuffled against Arthur’s chest making himself more comfortable. “Who says it’d be your bed? I’ll have you know my bed is very comfortable.”

“I have no doubt,” Arthur smiled and kissed the top of Merlin’s head, “but you have flat mates.”

Merlin hummed, acknowledging Arthur’s point. “Next time, I’ll show you a real bookstore.”

“Oh, really.”

“Yeah.” Merlin knew his smile was growing dopey, but he was sleepy and happy and didn’t care.

“Does that mean this wasn’t a completely horrible experience, despite my choice of venue.”

Merlin laughed. “No, not too horrible.” He raised his head for another soft kiss. “The kissing made up for a lot.”


End file.
